


Through the Darkness

by shadowmaat



Series: Re-choosing Sides [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Humor, Fixing problematic backstory details too, Gen, Han and Leia love each other dangit, Kylo Ren Redemption, Kylo picks a new identity, Kylo vs. everything, Kylo vs. younglings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 08:52:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7354219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowmaat/pseuds/shadowmaat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kylo and his father have managed to escape the Finalizer. He’s hoping they can go their separate ways before the First Order catches up with them, but he’s never been that lucky. When Fate also throws an obnoxious smuggler and a family of refugees in his path he’s convinced he’s being punished.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_The dream started as it always did: on a rain-slick field where screams mixed in with sounds of the storm. Ben Solo stared down at a Zabrak boy only a few years younger than himself. Mud spattered his face, marring the jagged lines of his tattoos._

_“I don’t understand.” The boy flinched as lightning threw the scene into stark relief, the masked knights herding the students together, waiting for their orders._

_“Ben?” He held up a trembling hand. “Please!”_

_“That isn’t my name.” Ben’s lips curled as his new lightsaber sputtered to life. He could hear a whisper in the back of his head urging him on, but he hardly needed it. Leeth was his rival; always managing to be a little better or a little faster. Always quick to answer questions and quicker to share a laugh. His uncle liked him, too, and although he never said as much there was always an underlying feeling of:_ why can’t you be more like Leeth?

_Watching him now, helpless on the ground and begging for mercy was a good feeling. Anger and resentment sang through him as he lifted his saber. For one crystalline moment the whole universe seemed to hold its breath. Even Ben paused, sensing something. And then he slashed down, feeling the bright glow of another life snuffed out. Darkness surged within him._

_One of the knights handed him a mask. He smiled down at the silvery lines of it, staring into the darkened pits of its eyes before slipping it over his head. It latched with a satisfying click and he straightened, squaring his shoulders as he addressed the huddled mass of survivors; his former training mates._

_“My name is Kylo Ren.” He reveled in the altered sound of his own voice and raised his saber, addressing the knights behind him. “Let’s finish this.”_

He opened his eyes and scanned the cockpit. Still alone. And still no sign of pursuit. He wasn’t sure what to make of that. He’d already made one limping circuit of the ship, checking for and removing bugs. His father was still asleep in his private quarters so there was no way to check there. And there was no way to check the outside of the ship. They’d have to take their chances until they got to Pagodin Station.

The headache was back. Or more accurately, it was still there and getting worse. He rubbed his temples and concentrated on reinforcing his shields. Snoke had already been alerted to his... defection and the force of his rage was painful to block. But block it he did. Snoke had always been able to reach into his mind, but years of practice had taught him how to block the intrusion... somewhat. Distance helped, which was one of the reasons Snoke liked to keep him close. He’d always thought it was protective, but he was beginning to realize it was possessive. He’d been kept on a short leash and never noticed. Maybe now he could finally run far enough that his Master’s voice couldn’t reach him.

A muffled clunk and soft footsteps had him on his feet facing the doorway, watching his father make slow progress towards the cockpit. Han Solo had definitely seen better days. Ten hours of sleep and a turn in the sanisteam hadn’t done much to improve things and raiding Kylo’s closet for spare clothes only emphasized how pale and waxy he looked. Kylo struggled to think of something to say to him.

“Those are mine.”

Han leaned in the doorframe. “Oh really. That must be why they look like they were dipped in a vat of used engine oil.” He plucked at the back robe that engulfed him. “You sure as hell didn’t get your fashion sense from me.”

Kylo glared. This was not going the way he wanted, but that was typical when his father was involved. He huffed, flicking hair out of his eyes.

“Should you even be moving right now?”

“Do I have a choice?” He rubbed his chest. “I don’t suppose you have a bacta tank on this thing, do you? I think I could use a refill.”

“Bacta tanks are considered a waste of resources,” he said. “Unless someone is of sufficient rank and importance they can either do without or be decommissioned.”

“Decommissioned as in-” Han drew a line across his throat. “And you don’t have a tank?”  
Kylo felt a surge of rage and took a breath, trying to contain it. “This is only a command shuttle. It isn’t meant for long-range travel and so it wasn’t deemed necessary.” He found himself wondering if that was true.

“So no bacta tank for the injured, but you get private quarters with a full ‘fresher that includes a high-end sanisteam unit?” Han wheezed a laugh. “That’s some stellar First Order logic right there. Add so much bait you never feel the hook.”

“I wouldn’t expect _you_ to understand.” The pounding in his head was getting worse. “If you’re feeling well enough to try and argue with me then I assume you can sit in a chair and watch some controls. _Can_ you?”

“I wasn’t-” Han broke off, scrubbing at his face. “Look, Ben, I’m not trying to pick a fight, here-”  


“Leeth,” he corrected.

Han blinked at him, forehead creasing. “What?”

“Ben Solo died a long time ago and I can’t use Kylo Ren anymore, so call me Leeth.” The name felt right in his head. It was a way to remember the past and also a warning to his future self. He wouldn’t forget what he’d done and he wouldn’t repeat the same mistakes.

“Leeth.” Han frowned, shaking his head. “I… OK, if that’s what you really want.”

Leeth lifted his chin, staring down at his father. “It is.”

“We still need to talk… uh, Leeth. About what happened. And- and why…” He winced.

“They were trying to keep your survival a secret,” Leeth said. “I don’t appreciate being lied to and I… They’ve kept too much from me already.” He looked away, lifting one hand to press against his reinjured hip. “I’m tired of being treated like a child.”

He could almost _feel_ the amount of restraint his father used in order to not comment. His temper simmered anyway.

“I’m a grown man, _father._ ” He sneered. “I didn’t stop growing when you ran out on me!”

“Hey!” Color came back in Han’s cheeks as he stood straighter, jabbing a finger at Leeth’s chest. “I never ran out on you! Not once!”

“No, you just cared about your damn races more than you cared about me! About us!” He swatted the hand away. Something hot and painful slithered through his head, past the walls he’d built so long ago.

“The- the _races?!_ ” Han stared at him, wide-eyed. “Is that what you- I was helping your mother, dammit!” His face creased as he rubbed his chest again. “The races were fun, but that was a cover! I was gathering information. Making contacts. You think I _wanted_ to spend so much time away from you?”

Leeth clenched his jaw, not trusting himself to speak.

“I only did it because she asked me to!” His expression softened for a moment, the ghost of a smile flitting across his lips. “I never was very good at saying no to her.”

“So this is her fault!”

Han’s eyes blazed as he pushed forward into the cockpit. “Don’t you dare blame her! She loved you! We both did! But her job…” He paused, wheezing as he tried to catch his breath.

A distant part of himself wondered why he was fighting. This wasn’t what he wanted. But his temples were pounding and he reached out to slam the wall with his fist.

“Her job! Of course! Because being a precious kriffing senator is more important than being a mother! More important than-”

“Never!” Han coughed, his pallor going waxy again. “Family was everything to her! But she had her duty, too. It was killing her to be away from you. Away from us. Ben…” He clutched Leeth’s shoulder. “She was trying to get away from it. She wanted to quit so she could spend more time with us. As a family. But-” He stiffened, eyes rolling up as he slumped against Leeth.

“Dad!” Leeth caught him, the shock temporarily banishing his headache. He lowered him carefully to the floor, checking his pulse- weak but steady- and his breathing. Something started to beep and he went cold with terror as he realized it was the implant. Was it a bomb?

He shoved the cloak and shirt aside and stared at the device set in his father’s chest. There was a blinking red diode. He had no idea what it meant. He placed his hand over it and reached out with the Force to see if he could sense anything.

There was a muted click as a small compartment opened, revealing a socket. The shape of it was familiar and after a frozen moment he realized what it meant; the implant wasn’t going to explode, it was running low on power. Swearing in a mix of three languages he scooped up his father and carried him into the main holding area, dumping him on a fold-down bench as he searched the wall and found a recessed charging port. He flipped open the panel, grabbed the cord, and plugged it into the socket on the implant, trying hard not to think about what he was doing.

The beeping stopped and the diode went from flashing red to a steady orange. His father took a deeper breath but didn’t wake. Leeth sat on the floor with his back against the couch and trembled. He hated his father, he did, but… he didn’t want him to die. He wondered who the hell would create a medical device that needed to be recharged and realized the answer was obvious: the First Order. It was a good way to keep someone under control. He closed his eyes and worked on his breathing.

_You shouldn’t be fighting with him._

“Shut up.” He didn’t open his eyes; didn’t want to see the look of disapproval on his grandfather’s ghostly face.

_This is a chance to make up for lost time, to mend what’s broken._

“I’m not listening.” He buried his face in his hands.

_When do you ever?_ There was a faint sigh. _You chose to leave the First Order. That’s a good first step, but there are still many more to go. Don’t backslide now. Not when your father needs you._

“Not listening,” Leeth repeated.

He distracted himself by checking his father for bugs. There were two: one embedded in the back of his neck and one implanted directly in the device. Of course. If his control had been more delicate he might have been able to use the Force to crush them, but he’d always been more about power. It usually worked in a fight, but in this case it meant he had to use the sonic scalpel to cut the one out of his neck and then resort to the emergency repairs toolkit to get at and extract the one in the medical regulator. His technical background (which had nothing to do with his father, of course), came in handy since it meant he was versed enough in electrical components to know what did and didn’t belong and which bits he could and couldn’t mess with.

His father woke not long after the bugs had been extracted and destroyed. Leeth learned some interesting new words when he explained what happened and then, of course, they had another argument.

“Absolutely not.”

“I’m not gonna comm her directly,” Han said, “but I told you, your mother needs to know I’m safe before she does anything stupid.”

“You mean stupider than marrying you?”

“Yes!” Han glared. “I can bounce the signal across half the galaxy and it’ll wind up in a safe drop account only she and I know about.”

“As far as you know.” Leeth raked the hair out of his eyes and tried to think. The whole situation was bad and bound to get worse. He needed to get away from his father as soon as possible and he needed to get away from the First Order’s grasp even sooner. It was only a matter of time before Hux or, even worse, Snoke found him. He wanted to be able to survive that. And sending comm messages all over the place would only make them easier to follow.

He was not at all happy at the prospect of his mother getting involved, either, even at this remote a distance. But she probably would do something stupid; she’d always been recklessly sentimental at the worst possible moments. He sighed.

“You’ll do nothing until I’m sure that thing in your chest is charged.” He sniffed. “I don’t need you collapsing again.”

“Trust me, we agree on that part.” Han sighed.

“Hmph! That’s a first.” He looked away.

There was a long pause. “We didn’t always butt heads like this, you know.” Grunting, Han shifted on the bench. “We used to get along. Sometimes I even held you in my lap while-”

“That was a long time ago.” Leeth didn’t want to remember.

“Doesn’t always seem that long to me,” Han muttered.

He didn’t bother responding to that. The silence dragged on.

“Look,” his father said at last. “For what it’s worth… I’m sorry.”

He looked at him, taking in the shadows under his eyes and the fine lines of wrinkles. He’d gotten so old.

“I know you feel like your mother and I failed you, that we… That we weren’t there for you when you needed us.”

His chest tightened, burning as if he was the one with the hole through him, but he remained silent.

Han reached up, wiping something from his eye. “We tried to do what we thought was best for you. I swear we did, Ben. Leeth.” He winced, correcting himself before Leeth could do it for him. “I guess… I guess it wasn’t enough. I’m sorry.”

Their eyes met. He felt as if all the air was being sucked out of his lungs. Truth. Honesty. Regret mixed with grief. His father really meant it.

“It’s too late for that, now,” he said, but the words sounded hollow even to his own ears. He saw his father flinch. It wasn’t the good feeling it should have been. “Just… go and record your message,” he said, standing. “I trust you know how the equipment works?”

Han’s smile was weak, but there. “Yeah, I think I can figure it out.”

“Try not to get us caught.” He turned and walked away. He’d had had enough. Of everything. While his father went to record a hopefully cryptic and encoded message to his mother he went in his room and locked the door. Just for good measure he kicked it. And then he used the Force to fling things around, roaring his frustration at a universe that seemed intent on knocking him down every chance it got.

Something had to be done. Something needed to shift the balance in his favor. A symbolic change to show that he was in charge. He stomped into the fresher and leaned against the sink, glaring at his reflection.

“You are the most important person in the universe,” he said. “What are you going to do?”

His reflection didn’t provide any answers and for once, mercifully, neither did the spirit of his grandfather. Instead his gaze drifted down to a tube left on the counter. He made a decision.

Using a knife from the dining partition he hacked off large chunks of hair, dropping them in the recycler as he worked. It hurt. It hurt a lot and took far longer than he wanted it to, but in the end it worked. He stared at his reflection in the 'fresher mirror. He looked gaunt. Haggard. The exertion made his scar stand out even more, but his attention was on his hair; or what was left of it.

He'd managed to cut it close in most places, but there were still dark tufts all over his head along with a few stubborn longer strands. He pulled out the tube of depil cream and spread it over his head. It was supposed to be used to manage facial hair, but it worked on other types, too. He stripped down and stepped into the sanisteam to clean off, letting the heat soak into tense muscles.

It was strange how much lighter his head felt. He kept reaching up, exploring with his fingers. His own touch felt alien on his newly-exposed scalp. When he checked his reflection again while getting dressed in clean clothes the face looking back at him was almost unrecognizable. Part of him mourned the loss of his hair, but deep down he felt satisfaction. He'd changed himself. His decision. His actions. This would be the start of something different.

"Hey, have you- what the hell?!" Han almost fell off the seat when Leeth entered.

“I thought a change might be required,” he said, hunching his shoulders. “Since we don’t want anyone to identify me.”

“Was that even a possibility?” Han shook his head “Sorry,” he said, staring again. “It’s just… You always did have a flair for the dramatic. Remember that time you were six and dyed your hair laser green?”

Leeth could feel the blush spread through his cheeks and over his bare scalp. “That was different! Ugh! Why do you never listen?” He slammed his fist into a panel. An overhead fan sputtered and died.

“Hey! Hey, I’m listening!” Han spread his hands. “Look! It’s fine! You, uh, look a lot different. More… threatening.”

Leeth glared at him. “Then I guess I should fit in well on Pagodin Station, shouldn’t I?”

Han’s expression turned thoughtful. “You know… you just may be right about that.” He smiled

Leeth wasn’t mollified. Much. But at least he’d gotten his father to admit he was right. For once.

His grandfather, who appeared later as Leeth was trying to meditate, took a long look at him before saying _Well this is bound to be interesting,_ and then faded out again.


	2. Chapter 2

They’d been sitting in the back corner of Pag’s Payback for most of the day. Leeth drummed his fingers on the sticky surface of the table and scowled across the dimly-lit cantina. His father had talked to four pilots already and rejected three of them. The fourth one had been intending to rob and kill Han, a fact Leeth had picked up on with gentle probing. Xe wouldn’t be bothering anyone again.

“There has to be someone in this rancor pit that’s headed for the Inner Rim.” He sniffed, wrinkling his nose at the stench of stale beer and sweat. “Maybe it’d be easier to just acquire a ship.”

“Have a little patience.” Han leaned against the threadbare back of the booth and folded his arms across his chest. “Someone’ll be along. Someone always comes along in a place like this.”

“Maybe if we went somewhere a little cleaner…” Leeth glanced up as someone approached their booth. Human. Likely female. She had several knives strapped to her belt as well as a holstered WESTAR-35 blaster. Her hair had been pulled back in a messy ponytail and she had an eyepatch over her left eye. It was almost comical.

“Hi boys,” she said, hooking a chair to sit in. “I understand someone’s looking to go for a ride.” Her eye raked up and down him before dismissing him to focus on Han. “How many for the party, Gramps?”

Leeth bristled, smoothing a hand over his scalp as the woman flirted with his father. She had to be in her 20s; 30s at the latest. He could see a few faint scars, including one that passed under the eyepatch. A braided tattoo ran along her right forearm. Dark tan skin and very fit, judging by her biceps. One leg jiggled constantly and he resisted the urge to grab her knee to make her stop. It was putting him on edge.

“Only one of you, huh?” She smiled. “Sounds cozy. I think I can manage that.”

“I haven’t even said where I’m going, yet.” Han returned her smile, arching an eyebrow. “You might not be so eager when you hear.”

The woman leaned on the table, angling her shoulder to edge out Leeth a little more. “Wherever you’re going it’s bound to be more interesting than this place,” she said. “And I’m tired of taking jobs from people too pissy to appreciate a good joke.”

She didn’t look at Leeth. She didn’t have to. He glared, trying to get a read off her to see what kind of trouble she was planning to cause them. He could pick up on her amusement and curiosity and a deeper spark of excitement, but beyond that he got nothing. His frown deepened.

Han chuckled. “If we can come to an agreement I can almost guarantee it’ll be interesting.” There was a sparkle in his eye that hadn’t been there before. “I’m headed for the Inner Rim. Can’t get too specific just yet.” He tapped his ear and glanced at the room.

“Sounds like fun.” She flexed her fingers one by one. “Won’t be cheap, though.”

Leeth stared between the two of them as they started to haggle, unable to believe what was happening. There was no way his father was actually agreeing to let this walking carnival attraction have anything to do with them. Even the drunken Weequay would have been a better option.

“It’s agreed, then.” The woman held out her hand. “Trix Hunter. I look forward to having you and your credits aboard, Mister…?”

“Garris,” Han said, clasping her hand. “Keil Garris.”

“Are you kidding me?” Leeth grabbed his father’s arm. “You aren’t actually going to trust her, are you? She’s hiding something!”

“We’re all hiding something,” Trix said. “Who’s the sourball?” She addressed the question to Han.

“Leeth.” He answered for himself, tired of being ignored. “And if you think I’m going to let you walk out of here with my-”

 _“Leeth,”_ Han hissed.

“-my _friend,_ ” he growled, “just so you can stab him in the back and sell him to the highest bidder-!”

 _“Hagwa karking hopa, wermo.”_ Han pinched the bridge of his nose.

Trix’s eyebrows went up, her eye widening. “Why? Is he worth something?”

He froze, staring at her. Heat burned in his cheeks as he realized what he’d just admitted in front of a cantina full of cutthroats and lowlifes. Something tickled in the back of his mind. A warning.

“No, he-”

The floor bucked, throwing them all off balance. Lights flashed and klaxons sounded.

“Hull breach,” Han and Trix said together, standing. The other patrons were already scrambling for the exits.

“Please tell me this isn’t about you.” Trix glared.

Han spread his hands and gave her a lopsided grin. “It isn’t about me?”

Leeth shivered as the tickle in the back of his head got worse. They must have missed one of the trackers. And now the First Order had found them.

Another explosion. Trix lunged, catching Han before he could fall. Leeth snatched his other arm. 

“Looks like it’s time to scram,” she said, leading them booth towards the door. “You have a way off of this tin can, Leaf?”

 _“Leeth,”_ he corrected. “And that isn’t your concern.”

“He has a ship,” Han said, glaring at him. “Vansen Docks. Bay 58.”

She turned her head, staring down the corridor. Leeth thought he saw something flicker behind her eyepatch.

“West Sector? By some strange coincidence that seems to be where the attack is concentrated,” she said. “C’mon. My ship’s in ‘Phousse. Should be a little more shielded. For the moment.”

Han shrugged free of their grips, following her through the flow of stationers heading for the emergency shelters. Leeth balked, casting a look in the direction of _Salvation_ , but all he could sense was terror, flames, and death. Sighing, he shoved people out of his way and caught up with his father and the captain who was apparently still willing to help them. At an additional cost, he was sure.

The closer they got to the docks the more crowded it became. Word had spread like flashfire that the First Order were the ones attacking the station and everyone was desperate to get away. Credits were flashed. Mothers held up screaming babies. Leeth strengthened his shields, trying to shut out everything. He kept one hand clutched on the back of his father’s shirt so they couldn’t be separated and refused to look aside as they made their way through the mob. He exerted just enough influence to keep anyone from clinging to them, but when they arrived at the ship, a Corellian freighter of much more recent design than his father’s old one, he saw that Trix had somehow managed to acquire a Togruta family, complete with three younglings.

Before he could object there was another explosion and the lights flickered. The ship ramp dropped and Trix roared at everyone to get onboard. She had her blaster in hand and was firing into the crowd that tried to surge up after them. He added his own blaster fire to hers as they backed upwards into the ship. The ramp closed with a reverberating boom and the roar of the mob was replaced by the wails of younglings and babble of alien voices.

“Liddy, those engines better be hot!” Trix headed for the cockpit. “Plug in Plan Kay One Zero and lock down everything!”

There was a fluting reply in Binary from an unseen droid. 

“Lounge is that way,” she said, pointing. “Everyone strap in. It’s gonna get rough!” She glanced back at Han and Leeth. “Either of you _di’kuts_ good for cannons?”

Time seemed to blur after that. Leeth took fore cannons and his father took aft and they managed to blast their way free of the base, the other fleeing ships, and the TIE fighters harrying them. 

There was a Star Destroyer hanging in space, turning the station behind them into slag. It wasn’t the the _Finalizer_ , but Leeth recognized the voice of the ship’s commander as she ordered them to stop and prepare to be boarded. Trix sent back a faux-panicked message about critical containment failure and punched a button that caused _something_ to be vented before shoving the stick forward and taking them to hyperdrive. Only to drop out again minutes later. The process repeated a few times before they jumped to hyper again and stayed there. Trix stood and stretched.

“What the kriffing hell was that?” Leeth demanded.

“That was me pissing on our trail to make it harder for them to trace.” She grinned. “You’re welcome.”

“You mean you _meant_ to do that?” Leeth followed her as she headed to the lounge to check on the aliens.

“Of course,” she said. “Just like I meant to drop a bunch of gravity mines to keep the Firsties from getting bored!”

Leeth stopped in the doorway, watching as she talked to the Togruta, calming their fears with jokes and letting one of the younglings hang from her arm.

“We got damn lucky,” Han said, coming up behind him. 

“This isn’t luck it’s insanity!”

“Whatever works.” Han clasped his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re still here.”

“Only because I lost my ship.” He shrugged, but made no real attempt to move away. “As soon as we’re safe I’m leaving. I’ll just… find a new ship.”

“Steal one, you mean.” Han grinned, but it faded as he tightened his grip. “You could still come home, you know. Your mom would help.”

“No, I can’t.” Leeth stared across the room, refusing to look at him. “We’ve been over this already.”

“I know.” Han sighed. “I know you have your reasons, but… I have to try.”

There was a polite chirp behind them and they turned to see an ID9 seeker droid hovering behind them, its pincers tucked close. Instinct took over and Leeth _pushed _it away. It wailed as it was flung back into the wall and fell.__

“Iddy!”

Still holding the youngest Togruta, Trix shoved Leeth out of her way and bent to check the droid, who was wobbling back into the air.

“ _That’s_ your droid?” Leeth stared. “That’s _your_ droid?”

“Shh, shh, it’s OK, Iddy.” Trix crooned, patting the probe’s dome. “Just ignore the mean ol’ Leaf. He doesn’t have any manners.”

“Leeth,” he corrected. “And what the kriff are you doing with-”

“That’s an old Imperial model, isn’t it?” Han interrupted.

The droid, Iddy, hooted and rose higher. The Togruta in Trix’s arms gurgled back at it, making grabby hands.

“Yes.” She stood, turning to face them. “I found her on a scavenging run. She’d been buried in a rockslide and left behind by her previous owner so I fixed her up and gave her a new purpose. Right, Iddy?”

Iddy warbled an affirmative.

“If you’re done trying to damage my crewmate,” she said, tilting her head so she could glare at Leeth. “I’d like to introduce you to the Kysh family.”

He made it through the introductions. Somehow. He’d attended enough formal functions to know the right things to say, although dealing with the wide-eyed stares of the younglings was uncomfortable. He hadn’t been around children since his Jedi training days and those were memories best left buried. At least in the present company.

“No,” he said, stepping back as one of the girls held up a frayed doll for him to take.

“I’m so sorry,” one of the mothers said, not quite snatching the girl away from him. “Raasa is very friendly.”

“Understood,” he said. A glance showed that his father, naturally, was making himself right at home. His expression was pinched, though, and he kept rubbing his chest.

“You didn’t get hit, did you?” Trix had clearly noticed, too.

“No,” Han said. “Older injury.”

Leeth swallowed a stab of guilt; he was never going to forgive himself for that.

“Medbay’s across the hall if you need anything,” she said. “I even splurged for a bacta tank if things get really desperate.”

He and Han both stiffened. “You have a _bacta tank?_ ” Leeth didn’t hide his incredulity.

She turned to look at him, eye wide. “Well golly gee! I have a droid and a bacta tank and a ship with a real live engine in it! I even have food in the galley!”

Han covered his mouth for an unconvincing cough. Leeth scowled at both of them.

“In my experience smugglers aren’t known for their forward thinking,” he said, making his father roll his eyes.

“So you’re inexperienced, huh?” She smirked. “Don’t worry, I think I can _handle_ that.”

He could feel himself blushing, but refused to rise to the bait even when his father had another “coughing” fit.

“We should get you to the med bay, old man.” He walked over to take Han’s arm. “I assume using your facilities will cost us extra,” he said, not looking at her. “I don’t think smugglers are _that_ different.”

“Freelancers aren’t that different, either,” she said. “But I’m sure we can work out something to our mutual satisfaction, New Leaf.”

 _“Leeth.”_ Jaw clenched, he all but dragged his father out of the lounge.

Han wheezed. “I think she likes you.”

“Shut. Up.”

He was still blushing and he hated it. He hated his father for laughing at him and the woman for embarrassing him in the first place. He hated the ship and the stupid aliens and the First Order and Snoke. The whole universe was conspiring against him and he hated all of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Hagwa karking hopa, wermo" is Huttese for "Don't f'ing help, dumbass."  
> "Di'kuts" is Mando'a for "idiots"  
> Trix isn't Mandalorian. Some day I might get around to her backstory.  
> Also, bonus cookies to anyone who catches the references to an obscure 90s TV show I loved.


	3. Chapter 3

The medbay, at least, was neat and organized. The tank was in corner, empty and waiting. He released his father and went over to stare at the control panel, trying to figure out how it worked.

“If you glare at that any harder you’re gonna melt the controls.” Han joined him, pressing buttons and flicking switches. 

The tank hummed to life and started to fill.

“How do _you_ know how this works?” He knew he sounded petulant and he hated that, too.

“When you’ve been around as long as I have, kid, you learn a few things.” He started to pull off his shirt.

Leeth turned his back to give him more privacy. “I’m not a kid.”

“Then stop acting like one.”

The droid, Iddy, drifted into the room, giving them a wide berth as it warbled about necessary injections, using one claw to point to the appropriate drawers. It hovered, watching closely as Han measured out the drugs to ease the discomfort of being submerged in bacta gel and manage the pain.

Leeth helped him into the harness as he administered the injections himself, grimacing.

“Always hated this part,” he said, his voice already starting to slur. “Be nice to Hunter. Don’t… get us… thrown off…”

Leeth punched in the code to lower him into the tank. At least he could do that much. Iddy piped a compliment and left the room, leaving him alone. He stared at his father for a few minutes, wondering what he should do next. He didn’t want to deal with other people right now, especially not the captain. He decided to check the cargo hold, figuring it would keep him out of anyone’s way.

He hadn’t paid much attention when they first entered, but the hold wasn’t as empty as he’d expected. Crates were stacked neatly against one wall, giving the appearance of being used more for storage than actual freight. One section of floor was covered with mats, possibly for more delicate cargo, although it might be useful as a workout area, too. He studied it, trying not to think about how long it had been since he’d practiced. 

One more area held cages. He walked over to see what kind of unfortunate animal was likely to be transported by a captain like Trix. As he got closer he felt his shields drop. He froze, clutching his head as if that could help, but the onslaught of voices- especially that voice- he was expecting didn’t happen. The pain in his hip burned with renewed vigor and he felt his scar pulse. He dropped to his knees as a wave of exhaustion swept over him.

“Wh-what…”

Something moved in the cage nearest to him and he looked over to see a double set of beady black eyes watching him. A tongue flicked, testing the air. The creature itself looked like a mossy green lizard. It reminded him of something, but he was too busy trying to stay upright to give it much thought. He reached out for the Force… and it wasn’t there.

“Found my other cargo, huh, Leaf?”

He couldn’t form the words for a response. _The Force had abandoned him!_

“I found these little fuzzballs way out in the Regions.” Trix crouched beside him, sticking a finger into the cage to scratch the lizard under the chin. “I showed one to a science goofer friend of mine and he practically peed himself in excitement. Thinks they might be distant cousins to the Ysalamiri.”

_Ysalamiri._ He’d heard of those. Lizards with the ability to cancel out the Force. He drew a breath, his thoughts finally calming. The Force _hadn’t_ abandoned him; that wasn’t even possible. Blocking his ability to access it, though… He shot her a sidelong glance, but her attention was on the lizards, cooing at them. She couldn’t have planned this. There was no way for her to know what he was and he wasn’t about to let her find out. He stood, fighting off the pain he realized he’d been subconsciously blocking.

“What made you decide to collect these… things?”

She cocked her head, giving the strong impression that she was studying him through her eyepatch.

“Maybe I’m a collector. Cute animals, cute kids, cute strays…” She waggled her eyebrows.

Struggling not to blush again he stared down his nose at her, frowning.

Her shoulders twitched. “Or maybe one of them got onto the ship and I didn’t notice until too late.” She stroked the belly of another lizard that was clinging to the bars. “They’re good companions, even if they don’t wind up being related to the Ysalamiri. I might give one to the Kyshes,” she said, glancing towards the lounge. “They’re good at banishing nightmares.”

“Really?” Leeth bit his tongue; he hadn’t meant to sound interested.

“I might be willing to loan you one, too.”

He scoffed. “I’m fine. I don’t need a _lizard_ to help me.”

“Oh yeah?” She was smiling. “Then maybe you should get your hand out of that cage.”

Startled, he looked to see that his left hand had latched onto the bars of one cage. The lizard inside was rubbing its head against his knuckles. He snatched his hand away, wiping his fingers on his shirt.

“Don’t worry, tall, pale, and pouty.” She patted his shoulder as she walked past him. “I won’t tell anyone you have a softer side.”

“I do _not-_ ”

“Come on, I’ll show you to your quarters.”

As soon as they landed somewhere he was going to kill her and take her ship. He’d get rid of the damn lizards and the kriffing refugee family and send his father on his way and then maybe he’d finally have some peace and quiet.

He stalked after her, fingers curled into claws. As soon as he left the range of the lizards the weight of the universe crashed back into him. Distantly he was aware that someone was screaming and then everything went black.

_**DID YOU REALLY THINK YOU COULD ESCAPE ME?** _

Kylo- Leeth- writhed. Every nerve felt exposed and burning.

_**I FOUND YOU. NURTURED YOU. HELPED YOU RISE TO HEIGHTS YOU COULD NEVER HAVE ACHIEVED. AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME?** _

He could feel his consciousness being twisted into a knot. He tried to scream. Tried to drive the raging presence of his former Master from his mind. In desperation, he even tried to call on his grandfather, but everything slipped away from him.

_**I WILL TEACH YOU THE TRUE MEANING OF SUFFERING, APPRENTICE, AND WHEN I AM DONE YOU WILL NOT SO MUCH AS BREATHE WITHOUT MY-** _

“-permission, you _layari utreekov!_ ”

Leeth gasped, dragging air into his lungs. Everything hurt.

“And if you do, so help me I will follow you into your kriffing afterlife and drag your sorry _duse_ -brained ass back just to kill you, myself! Chomper, leave him alone!”

Something crawled across his chest. He tried to grab it, but missed.

“Hey! You awake?”

The world swam back into view as he opened his eyes, blinking slowly. Trix was leaning over him and she had two eyes. No, she had one eye and a cybernetic implant. It glowed blue like her real one.

“What…”

She shook her head. “ _Gar shu’shuk._ But then, so’s he.” She gestured at something behind him.

He vaguely recognized that he was back in the medbay, so she must have noticed Han. The thing on his chest moved again, reminding him it was there. He twitched, managing to lift his hand this time. He felt fur and warm leathery skin.

“Oh, sorry,” Trix said. “Chomper came running when I was dragging you in here. I think they can sense emotions. You’re not gonna die, right?”

“No.”

Trix’s fingers brushed against his and he lifted his head enough to see her grab the furry green lizard sitting on him.

“I’m fine. Leave him.” His scattered thoughts were slow to reform, but one idea blazing in his mind was that if these lizards could block Force use they could protect him from Snoke’s wrath. At least until he could rebuild his own stripped protections.

“Whatever you say, your lordship.”

He felt a stab of alarm before realizing she was being sarcastic. Slowly, and with far too much effort, he managed to sit up. The lizard scrambled up and sat on his shoulder, thrumming. Long buried memories stirred; his mother had once owned a pittin.

“Is it… purring?”

“Yeah, which just goes to show he doesn’t have any common sense, either.”

They frowned at each other and he realized that at some point she’d moved the eyepatch back in place.

“So are you gonna tell me what was all that about?” 

“Nothing,” he said. It felt like someone had taken his insides and scrambled them. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, and I’m Queen of Naboo. But if that’s the way you wanna play it.” She shrugged. “Dying is against the rules of the ship, by the way. Don’t pull a stunt like that again, okay?”

“I wasn’t planning to.” Leeth swallowed a wave of nausea. “Thank you for your… concern,” he said, “but I’m fine. Perhaps now would be a good time to discuss our destination.”

She stared at him. He stared back.

“Technically my deal was with Mr. Hole-through-the-chest,” she said, gesturing at the bacta tank. “Thanks for warning me about that, by the way. You and I haven’t made any deals yet so maybe we should discuss that first, since you’re in such a hurry.”

Rage stirred. It would be so easy to reach out now and crush her; end her insolence. The lizard shifted, reminding him that he could not, in fact, do that at the moment. And he knew that however annoying she might be he still needed her. For now.

“What sort of deal did you have in mind?” Each word was clipped. He could feel a muscle in his jaw twitching.

Her eyebrows waggled. “If I was a less reputable captain I could think of a few ways for you to make it up to me.”

His face went hot. “If you think for one minute that I would _ever-_ ”

“Oh, calm down, Crankypants.” She flapped a hand at him. “I said if. Besides, my husbands wouldn’t appreciate it.”

“Husbands,” he repeated, thrown completely off track. “ _You?_ ”

“Yes. And since I know what you’re thinking, yes, they do know about each other.” Trix tapped the tattoo on her arm. “Three lifelines, braided together.” Her smile softened as she traced the lines.

Leeth reached up to pat the lizard, reminding himself that she couldn’t really read his thoughts. He dug for his anger again. It was easy to find. It was always easy to find.

“How wonderful for them,” he drawled. “But since they aren’t here and I am, why don’t we deal with _my_ problem?”

“Your problem, little Leaf-”

_“Leeth.”_

“-is that you managed to piss off the First Order so thoroughly they destroyed your ship and the station it was docked at just to try and get rid of you.” She locked her eye on his.

“You have no proof they were targeting me,” he said. “There were a lot of ships at that dock.”

She spread her hands. “Sure, if you say so. But you no longer have a ship and I’m guessing you don’t have any credits, either. No tradable items?” She cocked her head.

He could feel the weight of the lightsaber hilt pressed against his back. “No. Nothing tradable. Unless… you want information?”

He hadn’t realized how much he depended on reaching into someone’s mind for information until now. He had no idea what the stupid woman was trying to get at.

“Information is always good,” she said. “If you can _satisfy my curiosity_ we’ll call it even.”

How she managed to make a simple sentence sound lewd was beyond him. Resentment burned as he felt his ears go red again.

“Fine. As long as it’s within reason.”

“Oh, I’m very reasonable.” She grinned. “As a matter of fact if you tell me anything really good I might even consider it payment for your, uh, _friend._ ”

His eyes narrowed. “I was under the impression that my fath- uh, father’s friend had already worked out an arrangement.” He cursed the slip-up; subterfuge wasn’t one of his strong points.

“We worked out the _promise_ of payment,” she said. “And if he’s who I think he is he won’t be good for it.”

He froze, staring. One hand started to reach behind his back. “And who do you think he is?”

“Someone with a hole through his chest that the First Order wants dead even more than they want you.”

It was an answer without really being an answer. Maybe two could play that game.

“Fine. What did you want to know?”

The interrogation lasted for the better part of an hour and included obvious questions like _“who the hell are you?”_ and _“what happened to your face?”_ and less obvious ones like _“what’s your favorite planet?”_ and _“when was the last time you had a home-cooked meal?”_ The latter was followed up by Trix insisting he needed to eat and get some rest. 

“I don’t care how fine you say you are,” she said, “you look like you’re going to pass out and I don’t want Chomper to get hurt if you collapse again.”

The food was better than what he expected. It was, apparently, a thank you gift from the Togruta family. He still didn’t trust them, but at least they knew how to cook. The same youngling from before stared at him while he ate. She had a strange headdress of rainbow-colored plastene teeth and shiny beads and she hardly seemed to blink the whole time he was eating. The mothers kept apologizing and dragging her away, but he could feel her watching him from across the room.

“I think you’ve made a conquest.” Trix grinned at him.

He scowled, but refused to acknowledge her. He also ignored her when she offered to help him down the hall to the co-pilot’s quarters, but after walking into a wall (and earning a hiss from the lizard) he reluctantly allowed her to guide him. He was so tired his eyes wouldn’t focus and although he could hear Trix making snide comments none of the words made sense. He lowered himself to the bunk and closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's all Mando'a this time.  
> "Layari utreekov" means "swaggering idiot"  
> "duse-brained" means something to the effect of rubbish-brained, although possibly a bit stronger.  
> "Gar shu'suk" means "you're a disaster"  
> Also, yes, I'm fully aware I'm taking massive liberties with the whole "distantly related to Ysalamiri but without the inconvenient attachment to tree limbs" thing.


	4. Chapter 4

For the first time in a long time his sleep was deep and dreamless. His past stayed buried. The voices of the dead didn’t cry out to him. Nothing antagonized him. He woke up groggy but well-rested to find his father sitting on the bunk opposite him.

“It seems you’ve been busy while I was out.” Han frowned. His color looked a lot better and he’d changed into a loose red tunic and dark pants.

Leeth sat up. “If you mean exchanging information in order to pay for our passage, then yes. I did what you failed to do.” A glance showed him that the lizard was still asleep next to his pillow. “It isn’t as if I told her anything important.”

“And the crates that fell over in the cargo bay when you had your little ‘fit’?” 

“What? I told her she must not have secured them properly! It wasn’t my fault!”

Han’s eyebrows went up. “And you think she believed you?”

“It isn’t like she can _prove_ anything.” He went to rake a hand through his hair and then changed it to sliding a palm over his scalp. 

Han rested his forehead on his hand and sighed. “Never mind. So what _really_ happened?”

He hesitated, remembering the roar that rattled in his skull. “Snoke found me.”

Han looked up at that. “ _What?_ Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He shrugged, looking away. “I don’t think he got anything. And I’ve found a way to keep him out for good.”

“The lizard.” He smirked when Leeth looked at him. “You know sometimes it helps to actually talk to people. Trix is a lot smarter than you give her credit for.”

Leeth snorted. “She’s smuggler scum. They aren’t exactly known for their intelligence.”

“So you keep trying to remind me.” Han rubbed his chest. “Then maybe you aren’t as smart as you think because she’s got you pretty much figured out.” He stood. “Come on, let’s see if Asena has anything cooking in the lounge.”

“She hasn’t figured out anything.” Leeth straightened his mussed clothes and caught the lizard before following him. “And who the kriff is Asena?”

“Asena Kysh?” Han sketched out a height a handspan taller than himself. “Tall Trogruta lady? Yellow and white skin?”

“Oh. _Her._ ” His stomach chose an unfortunate time to grumble.

Trix was mercifully absent, but her droid was playing keep-away with the two girls. His father tried to introduce him to the family. He nodded in the right places, grabbed a couple of meat rolls, and headed for the cargo bay, claiming to have a headache.

What he really wanted to do was meditate. Having a lizard around was useful, but he wanted his shields back up anyway just in case. Besides, unless he managed to coerce Trix or steal one for himself he would probably be in trouble once he left the ship.

He sat on the floor- out of range of the cages- and closed his eyes. Breathe in through the nose. Hold. Breathe out through the mouth. He repeated it for a few minutes, feeling himself get more settled. Then he began working on rebuilding his inner walls. He imagined them as a ship’s shields and worked on adding layer after layer, all of them humming with energy and purpose.

When he opened his eyes again he saw the Togruta youngling sitting on the floor facing him. She’d copied his pose and even had her doll sitting beside her. She cracked open an eye, saw him looking, and giggled.

“What are you doing?” He asked her.

She closed her eye again and wriggled a bit, adopting a look of studious concentration. He frowned.

“I’d say she’s learning how to meditate. From a Master.”

He looked up to see Trix leaning against a crate, watching them both.

“I’m not a Master.” He stood, causing the lizard on his shoulder to grumble and dig in its claws. The Togruta girl scrambled up, too, grabbing her doll.

“Close enough for her,” Trix said, nodding at the girl. 

“She wasn’t meditating,” he said. “She was just-”

“Tsk!” Trix held up a finger, silencing him. He glared at her but all she did was crouch down to the girl’s level. “Raasa, sweetie, your moms need you back in the lounge, OK?”

The girl nodded, then rushed forward to glomp onto Leeth’s leg. Before he could react she was already racing for the lounge, emitting a high-pitched shriek as she went. Both of them winced.

“Kids.” Trix shook her head. “I’m so glad I’m never having any of my own. Luckily for you, though, the Kysh family is a very virile one.” 

She was grinning. It was never a good sign. He tested the words in his head, trying to figure out what they had to do with him. He could tell she was expecting him to ask. Sighing, he gave in.

“Fine. Why is their… popularity good for me?”

She chuckled. “Because it turns out they have cousins who own a shipyard on Shili. And since we’re heading that way to drop them off anyway they might be willing to put in a good word for you.”

He stared at her. A shipyard meant ships. And no one would ever think to look for him on the Togruta homeworld.

“See, Leafykins? It pays to be nice once in awhile. And sociable.”

He scowled. “You sound like my father.”

“He sounds like a smart man.” She tilted her head, looking him in the eye, and he found himself wondering exactly how much she knew.

“He’s a fool,” he said, but there wasn’t as much fire behind the words as usual.

“My kinda fool, then.” 

She reached toward him and he flinched.

“How do you like your furzard?” She asked.

The lizard flicked out its tongue, tickling his ear. He scooped it off his shoulder and held it out.

“I should be fine now. Thanks.”

“Oh, no.” She clasped her hands behind her back. “She chose you. She’s all yours now.”

“I thought you said he- she- was yours.” He kept holding it out, but the lizard was wriggling furiously.

“ _Chomper’s_ mine,” she said. “I switched him out for this one after she almost chewed through her cage to get to you.” She reached behind the stack of crates to pull out a cage. One corner was torn up, but it looked as if she’d used a quikseal patch to fix it. “If you need a break from her for no particular reason, though, you can stick her in here and put her back by the others.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, but she continued to hold out the cage, smiling. It was infuriating.

The lizard, sensing his distraction, tried to scrabble up his arm. He caught her again and put her in the cage. She let out a long hiss, seeming to deflate.

“She’s sulky, too, so you should get along great.”

“And what sort of payment do you expect for this?” He walked away from her, heading for the rest of the cages. “My firstborn, maybe?”

“That’s a little melodramatic for a little furzard,” she said from somewhere behind him. “Second-born, maybe.”

He glared over his shoulder as he set the cage by the others.

“Oh, come on!” She rolled her eye. “Did you have your sense of humor removed when you shaved your head? Lighten up!”

“I don’t need to ‘lighten up’, you need to take things more seriously.” He headed towards his quarters, shoulders tensing as he moved away from the cages. “And stop deliberately mispronouncing my name. It’s childish.”

He felt the moment he left the influence of the “furzards.” The pressure behind his eyes came back, but some of his other aches disappeared. Trix, still trailing behind him, sighed. He could feel the exasperation radiating off of her.

“Oh sure, you’ve been in a sulk since we met but I’m the childish one.”

“I’m not sulking,” he said.

“Grumping? Moping? Got a case of the sullens?” she moved to walk beside him, head tilted to watch him. “You act like you’ve got the weight of the universe resting on your skinny little shoulders, but you know what? You aren’t the only one with problems.”

“I know that.” He stopped by the door to his quarters, frowning at her.

“So you know the Kyshes lost everything back on Pags? All their clothes, possessions, keepsakes? Family heirlooms? All their friends and the lives they’d built for themselves?”

Something uncomfortable stirred in his chest. “That’s hardly my concern.”

“It should be, especially if you’re gonna need their help to get a new ship so you can finish running away.”

He lunged, shoving her back against the wall. “I am _not_ running _away!_ ”

She dropped her arms and he felt something cold pressing against his crotch. He looked down. It was the barrel of her blaster.

“Pew, pew,” she said, and reholstered it. “You should work on that temper of yours. It’ll get you in trouble- _more_ trouble- some day.” 

He took a step back, fists clenched. How dare she tell him what to do when she was the one who’d started it? A flicker on his right side condensed into the form of his grandfather, who gave the obnoxious woman an assessing look before turning his attention to Leeth.

_Ben? Where have you been? What happened?_

He took a deep breath. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” she said. “I already have my hands full with your ‘friend’ trying to be my copilot.”

Leeth gave her a tight smile. “Yes. That sounds like him. Good luck.” He palmed the door open and entered.

“Hey! That was almost a joke!” She shouted as the door closed.

Anakin was watching him from the far side of the room. _You disappeared for a while. I sensed Snoke’s attack and then… you were gone._

He wondered how much to tell him before deciding to just get it over with.

“Our illustrious captain seems to have obtained a stash of creatures that act much as the Ysalamiri do.”

His grandfather looked stunned, then thoughtful. _That would explain why there are blank spots on this ship. Part of the cargo hold. And the captain’s quarters. Your quarters, earlier._

“Yes. If I didn’t know better I’d think she’d somehow planned this.” He sat on his bunk, rubbing his forehead. The pressure continued, unabated.

_Not her, no._ He paced silently, his robe flicking through the other bunk as he turned. _But it’s possible that this could be the work of the Force._

“The Force,” Leeth repeated, carefully not watching the movement of the robe. “The Force which these things apparently cancel out.”

_As my Master was fond of saying, ‘the Force works in mysterious ways’._

They both rolled their eyes at that.

“I doubt the Force had anything to do with this,” he said. “But it hardly matters. One of them is mine, now, and I plan to use it to my advantage.”

His grandfather turned to look at him. _You’d do better to get as far away from these creatures as possible._

“Oh, I’m working on that, too.” He didn’t bother to hide his satisfaction. “I’ll be on my way in a ship of my own, soon, and no one will be able to stop me. Not even the Supreme Leader.” He sneered.

_It seems you’ve kept busy._ He paused. _How are you getting on with the Togruta?_

It seemed like a random shift in subject. He frowned. “I’m trying to avoid them.”

Anakin’s expression was hard to read. It looked almost… pained. _I used to know a Togruta once. You could do worse than earning their trust. Just... be sure not to lose it._

Leeth shrugged. “I don’t need anyone to hold my hand. I can figure things out for myself.”

_I never implied that you couldn’t._

The door hissed open. Han Solo peered into the room.

“Talking to yourself, kid?” He sounded amused.

“It’s the only way to have an intelligent conversation on this ship,” Leeth said. “And I’m not a ‘kid’.”

“Yeah, you aren’t a lot of things these days.” Han walked through Anakin and dropped onto the other bunk. “But I have to call you something and ‘Son’ wouldn’t go over well here.”

His grandfather had faded out again, so Leeth stared at a point on the ceiling.

Han cleared his throat. “So. Uh, Trix tells me we’ll be dropping out of hyper in a few days near Shili.”

“Yes. I’ll be leaving with her Togruta refugees so I can find a ship of my own and be on my way.” He cracked his knuckles one by one.

“I guess it’s pointless to remind you that you could still come home with me.”

“Beyond pointless.” He stood, unsurprised when his father followed him up. “I’m going to check the lounge,” he said. “You should stay here and… get some rest.” It took an effort to say the words and he refused to look at his father when he did.

“Ben.”

His father cupped a hand around the back of his head, startling him into meeting his eyes. The blue had faded a little over the years, but it didn’t make them any less intense.

“We still love you. Your mother and I, we… You’re still our son. No matter what.”

It took an effort to break that gaze and brush him off. “I haven’t been your son for a long time.”

He slammed his palm on the panel to open the door and stalked out, trying to get his emotions back under control. His father called after him, but the door hissed shut again, cutting him off.

The next few days passed in a mix of tension, frustration, and- much to his surprise- moments of amusement. Leeth spent some time getting to know the Kysh family, mostly because it was a good way to avoid his father and Trix. The younger girl, Raasa, became a second shadow, trailing him everywhere he went and doing her best to copy him when he meditated or did his training katas.

Khotah stuck close to her mothers but was quick to scold her younger sister when she thought she could get away with it. It brought back troubling memories of his academy days. Both younglings were fascinated by his lizard (he refused to refer to it as a “furzard”) which he took out twice a day, partly for exercise but mostly as a relief from the constant pressure and nightmares induced by Snoke’s hunt for him.

He’d named the thing Turbosaw after his mother’s pittin (which also had a buzzing purr), but when Trix asked he told her that it was just “Lizard.” It was easier than admitting he was getting attached to it. It would be a tricky balance to maintain; he liked having Turbosaw around and she helped to calm his nerves, but he also craved his connection to the Force. His grandfather, too, urged caution, warning that the lizard’s influence could prove addictive in the long term. It was a chance Leeth was willing to take.

The drop out of hyper was uneventful. There were no Star Destroyers waiting for them. No signs of pursuit. Shili Control hailed them and granted clearance to land. Leeth kept waiting for disaster to strike, but nothing happened. Trix cracked inappropriate jokes as she arranged to offload some supplies; making what few credits she could. Leeth stood on the rampway out of range of Turbosaw, straining his senses for signs of danger, but all he could sense was the usual mix of preoccupation, annoyance, and happiness that was indicative of the better ports.

_Maybe the threat you expect is simply fear of the unknown._ His grandfather’s form flickered into being, staring down the ramp at the dockside.

“I’m not afraid!”

“Good.”

Leeth turned to watch him approach, lugging Turbosaw’s cage. Anakin disappeared again as he got close.

“I, ah… wouldn’t want you to forget this,” Han said, setting the cage on the floor.

He bit off a sharp retort. “...Thank you.”

They stood in awkward silence. Han stepped forward and flung his arms around him. Leeth stiffened. Turbosaw was too close for him to use the Force to push his father off and… he realized he didn’t want that, anyway. Slow and hesitant, he brought his arms up and hugged his father. The sobs were more felt than heard. His throat constricted and his eyes burned, but he wasn’t going to be weak like his father. He… wasn’t…

Sniffling, he squeezed his eyes shut, and tightened his hold. Neither of them spoke. He doubted either of them was capable of it. Weak. He was so weak. But maybe just this once he could get away with it.

At last Han pulled back, wiping at his eyes. “Damn atmosphere on this planet…”

Leeth’s throat was still locked so he grimaced, blinking rapidly to clear his own eyes.

“Here.” Han pulled something out of his pocket and stuffed it into Leeth’s hands, curling his fingers around it. “Just in case… you ever change your mind…”

It felt like a scrap of flimsi. A quick check showed him what looked like a comm code. He crumpled it up and jammed it in an inner pocket.

“That won’t happen.” His voice sounded hoarse. He hated it.

“Still.” His father cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. “You, uh, you take care of yourself, okay?”

He nodded, clenching his jaw as his father gave his arm a squeeze. There was a squeal of sound and something attached itself to his leg. He looked down to see Raasa grinning up at him. The rest of the family waited discretely nearby. A deep breath settled some of his nerves, so did his father retreating to stand near Trix, who gave him a far-too-knowing look.

“Time to go, right?” He was proud of how steady his voice was. Raasa nodded and tried to tug him down the ramp. He bent to retrieve Turbosaw’s cage.

“Is everything alright?” Zasha, the other mother, kept her voice soft, rocking the baby on her hip.

“Yes. Thank you.” He followed them down the ramp and outside. He very definitely did not look back to see his father watching him leave.

There was a tug on his arm and he looked to see Raasa wrapping something around his wrist.

“It’s her plastene akul-tooth headdress,” Khotah said, giving her younger sister a nudge. “She seems to think you’ll be going on an adventure and she wants you to be prepared.”

The rainbow colors were bright against his black sleeve. 

“An adventure,” he said, rolling the idea around in his head. “She might be right about that.” He looked down at the young Togruta girl and tried a smile. “Thank you.”

He had no idea what would happen to him next or what the future might hold, but it was sure to be an adventure. And it would be one entirely of his own choosing. Something fluttered in his chest. It felt like… hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you know that when Leia was a little scrapper on Alderaan she once had a pittin named All-Terrain Attack Vehicle? Check Wookieepedia if you don't believe me. I figured her unique naming tradition wouldn't be lost as she got older, thus Turbosaw.  
> Anyway, many thanks again to Camomility for beta'ing and generally encouraging me to keep going. This'll probably be the end as Kylo heads off to forge his own destiny. But then I thought that about the last fic, too. I may do an offshoot about Trix taking Han back to the Resistance and getting to witness his happy reunion with Leia, but we'll see if anyone even reads this one first. And if you ARE reading, thank you! It means a lot to know I'm not wasting all my time on this.


End file.
